


Peer Pressure; The Musical

by insufferableThespian



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: It's mainly about their kid being a Delinquent, OC, OCs - Freeform, Original Character(s), They're mentioned a bit but it isn't about them, ghost story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27174757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insufferableThespian/pseuds/insufferableThespian
Summary: "You’ve heard the story, haven’t you? They say the smell was so strong, it was tinting the wallpaper brown. And when the police broke in, it hit them like a tsunami. They searched the whole house, top to bottom. As they were leaving, one of them heard this quiet, hollow sound. Tap, tap, tap."A story in which Luciel and Em's daughter break into an abandoned house and Suffering the consequences of messing with ghost stories.This isn't super heavily centred around Mystic Messenger it's just really a placeholder for the universe I guess. For the most part it's just a spooky story that happens to be about their non canon daughter. I wrote this for a friend who helped me make this shared OC we have, and they bullied me into posting it. So if you read this, thank you!
Kudos: 3





	Peer Pressure; The Musical

“You’ve heard the story, haven’t you?”

His voice rang out, accompanied by the soft pitter-patter of rain outside the classroom walls. “They say the smell was so strong, it was tinting the wallpaper brown. And when the police broke in, it hit them like a tsunami.”

My eyes flicker upward to watch the speaker, watching the words fall from his lips. 

“They searched the whole house, top to bottom. As they were leaving, one of them heard this quiet, hollow sound. **_Tap, tap, tap._ ** ” The sound of his nail bouncing off the desk was audible above the rain outside. 

**_Tap, tap, tap._ **

“He split from the other officers, slowly following the ominous sound. It rattled through the walls, echoing in the empty hallways. Step by step, he slowly approached the bedroom upstairs, feet creaking on the old hardwood floorboards. His hand fumbled on the handle, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow. As he turned the knob, one inch at a time, all other sounds in the house came to a halt. No wind outside, no chatter from the men downstairs. Only a **_tap, tap, tap,_ ** coming from behind the door.

The door crept open, and the man stepped inside, his mind filled with haze. His fellow officers called out to him, but it was as if he was in a trance. Eyes hollow, mouth agape like a dead sogarli. His gasps for air mimicked a prayer to an unknown deity of anarchy. Shuffling forward, he approached the furthest wall, reaching ahead like an American zombie. His shaking hands laid rest on the cold drywall, leaving imprints of oil behind. 

A silence fell over his soul, before a storm erupted.  **_Tap, tap, tap._ **

He let out a blood curdling cry as he dug his nails into the drywall, clawing at the structure with reckless abandon. No matter what his colleagues did, he could not be halted. Blood filled his wake as his hands ripped at the wall, pulling chunks of it off at once. His nails caved inward from the force, but he did not stop. Not until a sizable hole had been formed in front of him. Stumbling back like a drunkard, the man let out one final cry before collapsing in the dust.”

The woman sat beside him sidles up closer, her body visibly shaking. 

“As the cloud of debris cleared away, the men could see it clear as day; In the wake of the chaos, crumpled within the walls, was the decaying remains of a woman. Rottling, crawling with maggots, seeping into the wood of the house. To this very day, although her body is long removed, her spirit still resides within those derelict walls, awaiting someone to press their ear against the cold front door. Just for long enough to hear her  **_tap, tap, tap._ ** ”

His fingers crawl up his girlfriend’s spine as he speaks, each word bringing them closer to the base of her neck. As his index hit her skull, he let out a beaming “ **_TAP!_ ** ” from his throat, eliciting a scream from the girl. 

“Aein! Jeong that isn’t funny!” Eun-ji’s shrill voice cuts through the tense atmosphere as she pushes and shoves at her boyfriend. Jeong’s laughter seems to be infectious, as Sung-ho begins to chuckle as well. 

“It’s no laughing matter! The guy died in the hospital a week later. His heart couldn’t handle being possessed by a ghost, I guess.” Jeong exaperates, despite his near choking laughter. 

“That isn’t true. None of it is, by the way.” My flat tone prods at the two boys, and they begin to quiet down. 

“Okay, trust fund, what happened then?” Jeong asks, leaning his chin on his hand. 

“They found her because of the smell, and the report said the wall looked funny anyway. They took the wall down normally, it wasn’t some crazed officer. AND, the officer who passed away didn’t have a heart attack, he was hit by a car on his off day. There is a difference.”

“So the ghost mowed him down instead. Still seems scary to me.” Jeong’s grin was from ear to ear, juxtaposed against his anxious girlfriend. 

“Can you both stop it?! It’s creepy! I live in that neighbourhood, you know! I don’t like thinking about the Serial Killer Next Door! My dad knew that guy!” Eun-ji’s pleas fell on deaf ears, it seemed, as Sung-ho kept going. 

“That is so creepy. Ain’t it condemned now? I know it hasn’t been knocked down yet. We should check it out.” Sung-ho punctuates his point with a slight raise of his cola.

“I have no plans tonight. Do you, aein?” Jeong propositions Eun-ji, much to her dismay. 

“I don’t want to get haunted by a ghost! I’m still scared of the Bongcheon-Dong comic you sent me!”

“We’ll all go together, right, Aeji?” his hazel eyes meet mine, accompanied by Eun-ji’s hopeful expression. “No way, not happening. My parents would flip if they knew I was hanging around that place.” This only seemed to like a fire in Jeong’s eyes, as his grin grew toothier.

“Oh? Why would they be upset? House is empty, right? Ghosts aren’t real. Unless you actually think they are?” He sits up straighter, giving him an extra two inches of height. I swallow the lump in my throat, feeling backed into a corner. 

“No, of course not. However, they would not be thrilled about the trespassing.” I fire back, folding my arms across my chest. 

“It’s condemned, no one is going to squat in there so there are no cameras or nothin’. C’mon, Aeji, don’t be a pussy.” My brows furrow at his words, and I feel as if I am given no choice. 

“Fine. But if I end up in trouble, you owe me 6000 won. And an all expenses paid trip to the convenience store.” Thinking of all the free chocowheels I would get seemed to make it worth it. Eun-ji flashes me the biggest smile she could muster. 

“Oh thank goodness! At least if something scary happens, your hot butler guy can come and rescue us!”

“He’s not a butler! That’s my uncle, you creep.” I reach over to flick her in the forehead, and she lets out a quiet ‘ow’ under her breath. Jeong stands up, stretching out his arms in front of him. 

“It’s settled, then. We meet at Sung-ho’s house at eleven’o’clock. I’ll bring some soju from my brother’s room.” With that, he pulls Sung-ho to his feet, and they both wave as they grab their bags and both disappear down the hall. Eun-ji turns to look at me, giddy.

“Isn’t this exciting? What if we see a ghost?” She inquires, and I feel dreadful shooting her down. “We won’t. I think if anything, it’s just disrespectful to all the women who died there. You remember the media stuff, right? It was such a big deal when we were kids. I think the ladies have been in the spotlight long enough.” Eun-ji shuffles her feet along the ground as they dangle from her chair. 

“I wouldn’t want people to forget me, I guess. Even if it was just through a ghost story.” Her gaze flickers to the floor as she speaks. “At least then you’ll never be lonely.” She has a point, I suppose, and I nod along to what she was saying. Death wasn’t something I found myself pondering often. Eun-ji absently itched at her arm through her sleeve, just as lost in thought as I was.

This somewhat strained silence lasted until her phone lit up, ringtone echoing throughout the empty classroom. Swiftly, she picks it up, answering in the same meek, soft voice she seems to reserve for speaking with her parents. Nearly all of her replies were gentle ‘yes’s, as she listened intently to whatever was being prattled off on the other end. 

My eyes wandered to the foggy window watching as the last drops of rain fell from the clouds before fading away. All that was left behind were the damp puddles and soggy walkways. 

Maybe, in a way, ghost stories were like that, too. All that was left of the rain, the only proof it had ever been.

“Aeji, we should get going now, before it starts again. I need to be home soon, my father is angry I’m not there yet…” The sense of urgency in her voice was enough for me to stand, reaching for my bag laid strewn under my desk. The clock on the wall showed 5:32pm, which was far past our usual exit time. I vaguely tried to recall if I had remembered to text my mother that we were waiting out the rain. 

Eun-ji’s frail hand encircled my wrist as she tugged me out of the classroom, pulling me down the halls to the main entrance of our high school. Outside, the sun was setting, casting golden shadows against the trees along the courtyard. Our shoes squelched against the wet grass, mud sticking to the sides. 

“Eugh, look at my shoes! I guess I’ll have to wear boots tonight…” Eun-ji frowned, lifting up one of her feet. My own runners were ruined, coated in a thick brown sludge. 

“Where did you even get those? They look awful. I thought you had money, Aeji.” she jests, elbowing me in the ribs.

“I think they’re from a thrift store. Thought they looked neat. Guess I need new ones, though.” Eun-ji flashes me a sparkly grin.

“We need to go shopping together!”

“What? No way. You just make me buy you designer stuff.” She laughs softly, curling her caramel hair around her finger. 

“That’s what friends do! Besides, I’ve bought you stuff before.”   
“Yeah, gum and soda.”   
“Now you’re just being ungrateful.” I found myself laughing at her, shaking my head. 

The streets of Seoul slowly turn more residential as we approach Eun-ji’s house. We part ways by a large camellia tree 3 houses away from hers, briefly hugging before she hurries down the street. I turn on my heel, trudging down the block back up to the more bustling roads to catch my bus. I watch as my bus pulls up to the stop, two blocks ahead from me. Bursting into a sprint, I only barely make it before it peels off. 

My cold and shivering form slumps into a seat near the back, glad to not be squished in between businessmen and construction workers. This bus tended to be rather empty, as several other routes went this way and came far more often. I let the view from the foggy bus window lull me into a stupor as I rode four stops down to mine. 

Hopping off the bus, I thank the driver as I hustle down the streets to my house. Stopping at the gate, I press my face against the security cameras protective glass, squishing my nose like a pug. I ring the comms button a few times, waiting for the speaker to crackle to life. An automated voice asks for my name, but I instead favour to call out for my dad over and over again, glass fogging up with my breath. 

Eventually, the gate opens with its confirmation ‘meow’ sound, and I don’t even wait for it to close behind me before rushing up to the front door and banging at it with my foot. My mother’s footsteps are audible behind the door, and when she opens it she greets me with the widest smile. I shuffle inside, kicking my muddy shoes off by the door. 

“How was school?” I can hear the warmth in her voice as she follows me, slightly corralling me into the kitchen. Sitting at the table is one of my uncles, spooning stew into his mouth as he scrolls on his phone. I take a seat down across from him, hastily reaching ahead for the serving spoon. He responds with a quiet huff.

“Good, thanks. Dinner smells really good, Eomma, thank you.” I smile at her, pouring the hearty liquid into the bowl set out for me. My mom joins us at the table, serving herself before covering the pot to keep the stew from getting cold. 

“Where’s Appa?” My voice is slurred from my mouth being full, and my mother shoots me a displeased glare at my manners. I feel a mushroom slip from my lips and back into the bowl. 

“In his office still. I didn’t want to bother him too much.” She replies, sipping more delicately on her spoon. 

“And uncle Mary?”

“He doesn’t join us all the time, Gongjunim. He has his own kitchen.” She raises her brow, dipping her spoon back into her bowl. My uncle mutters against his utensil, blowing steam off the stew.

“Thank god, frankly.”

“Sam-chon, Eomma’s going to whack you if you talk like that at the dinner table.” I smile at him, and although he doesn’t spare me a glance, I can feel our mutual respect.

For the most part we all eat in silence, save for the mindless chatter my mother came up with. She asks me what I did at school, I ask her what she did with her day. Today she went shopping with my dad, buying herself some new clothing. They often went on mini dates together, despite their many years of marriage. It was a love I aspired to have myself one day, too. 

I help my mother wash the dishes, scrubbing at the now empty crock pot that once held our dinner. I wrinkle my nose at the smell of the mucky water, trying not to hold the sponge too heavily to avoid touching anything gross. I can hear my mom’s soft snickers as she patronizes me, shaking her head at the bowl she was drying. I glance momentarily at the time on our oven, which flickers the time of 6:45pm over and over. 

I hand my mother the last dish, draining out the sink and fervently washing my hands free of the soiled, murky water coating them. Behind me, I can hear the soft patter of my father’s feet hitting the floor of our kitchen. I turn to watch as he opens the fridge, blocking my sight of him, as he rummages around for the leftovers of dinner. As he closes the fridge door, I shoot him a smile that I can only hope he saw before he goes to stand next to my mom and reach for one of the bowls she had dried off. 

They exchange quiet banter, words I do not pay much attention to as they are not really meant for me. My dad puts his bowl of stew in the microwave, mimicking the sounds the machine was making as he pressed the numbers on the side. As he hurries away with his late meal, he offers me a small wave before turning a corner down one of the hallways. It’s a short exchange, but it’s enough for me. 

My father has always been busy. That was just a fact of my life. It was nothing to be sad about, it was what it was. I used to ask questions about it when I was younger, but I’m older now. I know better, I can understand that the world doesn’t revolve around me. My mother does her best to fill in the gaps, despite the disconnect we share. 

My mom ruffled my hair, pressing a small kiss to the crown of my head before spiriting away to one of the rooms in the house, leaving me alone in the kitchen. My uncle was long gone, probably having escaped to his room shortly after dinner. I put all the dried bowls back into our cupboard, and dried up the counter top. Slowly, dragging my aching feet, I pull myself up to the top floor to my room.

As I open my door, my eyes flicker up towards the ladder that led up to my bed. Was it worth climbing all the way up there right now? It would be far easier to nap on my couch. I was already starting to feel sleep weighing on my shoulders, and if I was supposed to be out tonight I was going to need to at the very least power nap. 

Rolling my shoulders, hearing my spine crack, I approach the worn out ladder, hands gripping one of the rungs. Pulling myself up, I make my way up into the little pod on the roof of our house. Inside, my bed, surrounded by all windows littered with stars. I throw myself onto my bed, looking upward at the sky as it slowly melts to a dark blue. My eyes feel heavy, and they flutter closed as I sunk further into my mattress. 

“Siri, set alarm for 10:15pm” I call out, fumbling blindly for my blankets as the waking world slips away. An automatic voice responded back, coming from somewhere within my room.

“Alarm set for 10:15pm.”

The sound of the alarm piercing through the room jolted me awake, and I fumbled for my phone to turn off the alarm before my parents heard. Rubbing at my eyes, I slowly sit up, yawning. It was pitch black outside, my room only illuminated by the lamp in the corner of my bubble. Careful not to let the ladder squeak too much, I creep down to the base of my room. Once my feet touch the floor, I hurry to my closet to grab a warmer set of clothes, throwing on a thick pair of sweatpants and a few sweaters. Thick socks for my feet, and a hat over my head. 

Opening my door fills me with a sense of dread, worrying over every little creak and sound the hinges make. My feet feel like boulders as I try to shuffle across the wooden hall without the boards shifting with my weight, I begin to debate crawling if it would make less sound. 

The stairs move underneath me, causing my breath to halt. I hurry down the first flight as fast as I possibly can, poking my head down the hallway towards my parent’s bedroom on the second floor. The only sounds emanating from the room are the soft snores of my mother, and the shuffling of someone rolling over onto their side. 

I take my chance with the second staircase, hurrying down it and straight to the front door, nearly slamming into it and crushing my nose. No one is still awake in the living room, and the house remains eerily quiet. I swallow back the fear in my throat, pushing on my rain boots and grabbing my coat off the rack. 

The front door is quiet as ever, heavy, but merciful as it opens without hesitation. Sneaking out of the house, I slowly press the front door closed until I hear the soft  _ click _ of the lock. I break into a full sprint, making a mad dash for our front gate and near ripping it open, letting it slam behind me as I race down the concrete pathways towards the night bus stop. 

It is nearly 10:40pm before the bus arrives at the stop, opening its doors for me to hop on. Save for a few scattered men, the bus is completely empty, and I take my seat closest to the driver up front. The bright street lamps cast shadows each time we go past them, giving me faint glimpses of the other riders. The bus smells heavily of cigarette smoke and booze, clearly wafting off one of the passengers. I clutch my phone in my hands, idling playing with the small cat charm dangling off of it. 

Twenty stops down the line, I make my exit, stepping off the bus without another word. Looking over at the street sign on the corner, I can barely make out Toegye-ro 62-gil in white, faded Hangul. I walk down the darkened residential street before noticing a group of people gathered in front of one of the houses. As I get closer, I can clearly make out their faces; Eun-ji, Jeong, and Sung-ho. 

“Aeji!” Eun-ji calls out, face barely peeking out past the thick pink scarf wrapped around her neck. Jeong is right next to her, his jacketed arm wrapped loosely around her waist. Sung-ho offers me a wave as I jog up to their group, and I return it once I have fully caught up. I jam my hands in my pockets, hiding my nose in the neck of my coat. 

“We’re all here, then. Should we catch a bus? It’s a pretty long walk to the house, like maybe an hour? Hour and a half?” Jeong’s voice is slightly muffled by the neck of his jacket, musing aloud. Eun-ji full-body shivers, teeth audibly chattering within her skull. 

“Yeah, I think that would be best. It is way too cold for that walk. Your girlfriend is going to freeze to death before we even get there.” Sung-ho smiles, fumbling with the lid of the bottle in his hands. Looking down at his feet, three other bottles sit neatly in the cardboard case. I reach down, grabbing one of the cold soju bottles and cracking off the tip with my sleeve rolled up. 

Walking together along the sidewalk, we all start heading back down towards the bus stop from which I came. Huddling together on the small bench, we sipped on our illegally acquired drinks and chattered like birds. Sung-ho checks the schedule, and informs the group we have a good twenty minute wait before the next bus. Eun-ji lets out a whine, hiding her icy face in the coat of her boyfriend. 

Jeong and Sung-ho take out their phones, playing Brawl Stars together whilst Eun-ji watches Jeong’s screen. Every few seconds, I nervously checked my text messages, expecting my parents to message me any moment asking me where I was. I still had no plan for how I was going to get back in, as I had never been able to properly open the gate on my own. My arabic pronunciation was terrible, and Google Translate was always slightly off. The feeling of being stranded was only starting to set in.

Eventually, the bus pulled up, and all four of us crammed in through the door. We all hid our bottles in our coat, giving the driver a friendly smile. Jeong threw his legs up on the seat next to him, slipping his bottle back out when the bus started moving. 

“What do you think we’ll see? Do you think the ghost is intact? Or is she going to be all gloopy?” Jeong flashes his girlfriend a toothy grin, and she shoves her hands in his face. “I have a good point! Is she mobile, or stuck in the hole in the wall? Maybe, since they let her out, she can go anywhere now. Like, when you imprison a beast and then let it out. She might follow us home.”

“Aein, stop it! I don’t want a ghost following me home! If she’s going to cling to anyone it’s going to be you, you big creep!” Eun-ji pouts, covering Jeong’s mouth so he cannot scare her anymore. 

“I think if she is going to follow anyone home, she’s going to follow Aeji. Ghosts always latch on to people who don’t believe in them. That’s classic stuff.” Sung-ho’s voice was followed by a rather loud slurp from his half empty bottle.

“Where’s your metric for that? She isn’t going to follow any of us.  _ If _ she exists, she’s going to be bound to the house.” 

“ _ Where’s your metric for that? _ ” Sung-ho mimics my voice, and I fold my arms across my chest. Jeong manages to wrangle his girlfriend’s hands back down into her lap.

“No way she is bound to the house! Once they cracked open the wall? Boom. Free spirit. How else will she lure people in for her next meal?” 

“Is she undead now? Ghosts don’t eat people, numbskull.” I roll my eyes at him, shaking my head. “Nothing in the story even points to her eating anyone. Now you’re just trying to scare Eun-ji.” Jeong stops while he is still ahead, since he knows I’m right and Eun-ji would catch on fairly soon. 

The bus skids to a sudden halt, and all four of us jolt forward. I grab onto one of the standing beams in order to not slide off my seat. The driver at the front apologies, hurriedly throwing himself off of the driver chair and out the side door to look at something at the front of the bus. Cautiously, we all stand, inching our way to the front. I poke my head out the open bus doors to see the driver, staring at the road in front of the bus and scratching his head.

“Pardon me, is everything alright?” I call out to him, and it is almost as if he snaps back to life as he turns to face me.

“Ah, my apologies. Thought I hit something, but there was nothing there. Weird, isn’t it?” His voice is gruff behind his moustache, and he shakes his head one more time before coming toward me to get back on the bus. 

“Aeji, we should just get off. I think this stop is actually closer to the street, see?” Eun-ji’s voice pokes at me, and I look to see her pointing out the window. Following her finger, I can see the street sign we’re looking for. Funnelling out of the bus, the driver apologises once more and returns to his route, leaving the four of us in the dark of the street.

“It’s just down there, isn’t it? Down that alleyway.” Sung-ho’s voice is laced with anxiety, and I can hear him swallowing. 

“Yeah, should be. Not a lot of cars down here.” Jeong follows up, and he doesn’t sound any better.

Our pack of four make our way down the barely lit alley, huddling together like penguins. Our bottles of soju are all empty, but we all keep them clasped in our hands like baseball bats. Despite the even structures, the buildings seem to grow closer and closer together as we approach a rather derelict house. All the windows are boarded up with wooden panels, blue paint peeling off the front door in the corners. It towers over us as we stand at its gate, bits of police tape still stick to the metal bars.

“We just have to put our head against the door, right?” Eun-ji’s voice is feeble, I can hardly hear it over the thundering in my chest.

“Yeah, just. To see if we hear anything on the other side. If we do then we know there’s a ghost.” Most of Jeong’s bravado has been replaced with uncertainty, despite the front he puts on for his girlfriend.

I push at the gate gently, trying to find out where the lock is on the other side. It gave a little, enough for me to fit my hand through, however it caught on the lock. A thick, heavy padlock kept the gate from opening any further.

“I don’t think we can get in there. We’ll have to climb the fence…” I mumble, taking a step back. Sung-ho takes my place, fiddling with the padlock a little.

“That shouldn’t be too hard, right? One of us goes over and helps the other’s go through.”

I walk along the gate for a little, trying to find the best place for us to climb. Jeong follows behind me, humming quiet in the dark. I approach one of the segments, trying to throw my leg up and over the spiked bars. Jeong comes up behind me.

“Here, wait. I can hoist you up.” 

His hands find my armpits, and he lifts me up, giving me enough leverage to get myself over the fence. On the other side, I wipe off my pants, hands coated in spider webs and grime. Eun-ji hurries over, Sung-ho right next to her. 

Sung-ho is next over the fence, so that he can help pull Jeong back once he has lifted Eun-ji up and over. Leaving them to their task, I slowly approach the old, faded door, eyes trained on the security pad on the side. I lean my head towards the door, pressing it up against the cold, sturdy wood. 

Nothing.

The other three catch up quickly, joining me on the patio. Jeong pushes me out of the way, so he can press his head up against the door as well. His eyebrows furrow in disappointment, as he, too, hears nothing.

“This is total bullshit. I don’t hear anything!”

“I told you, Jeong, there are no ghosts in there.” I shake my head, sighing softly and pinching the bridge of my nose. I begin to regret coming out with them into the cold.

Sung-ho gives it a try, and falls victim to the same disappointment that crossed Jeong’s face. Eun-ji looks between the two boys, chin poking out from her scarf bundle. She almost seems relieved, after all the hyping the two had done. Dark, ashy streaks line some of the external walls, probably from the fire that had apparently flooded the bottom floor. 

“I guess.. We go home now? A little anticlimactic, I’ll admit, but maybe it’s better than being cursed..” Eun-ji mutters, tugging at her boyfriend’s sleeve. His brows furrow, lip curling in anger. 

“Not yet. Maybe we just can’t hear it through the door. Maybe we just need to stand in the front hall, right? The guy did hear it from inside. So it would make sense that we have to be inside.” Jeong shoves Eun-ji off of his arm, setting his focus on the keypad beside the door. 

“They’re usually 4 digits, right?” Sung-ho peeks out from over Jeong’s shoulder. “So... Can’t you just like, try every combination?”

“Are you stupid? That would be ten thousand combinations! There are ten options for each digit, right? And four digits. So that’s ten to the power of fucking four!” Jeong leans to flick Sung-ho in the forehead, and he removes his chin off his friend’s shoulder. 

I notice something shuffling to my left, and I turn to see Eun-ji with her ear pressed against the door. Her chocolate eyes were blown wide, like a deer in headlights. Her hands are clutched at her coat’s trim, white-knuckled and shaking. One of her fuschia fake nails has popped off from the strain. 

Slowly, moving Jeong and Sung-ho aside, I face Eun-ji as I shove my ear against the door as well.

**_Tap. Tap. Tap._ **

Jeong stares at us, blinking. We both pull our heads away from the door, eyes locked together in a shared sense of terror. Half of me wanted to run back to the sidewalk, and run into the comfort of my parent’s arms. The other, dragging my hand towards the security keypad. 

0119.

The security pad makes a chiming sound, and the door rumbles with an unlocking ‘cachink’. Sung-ho whips his head around to look at me, eyes just as wide as Eun-ji’s. 

“How did you know the combination??” His gaze bore into mine.

“I didn’t. It’s an admin code. It’s what police officers and firemen use. All pads have the same admin code… My dad taught me that.” I mumble, shoving my shaking hands into my pockets to hide my fear. “I think the code uses the numbers 2,4,5 and 8, look how worn out they are… But uh, the admin would be faster.”

The four of us stare at the now unlocked door, none moving to open it first. Eun-ji’s whimpers are the only sound we can hear, and she quickly moves to hide behind her boyfriend and cling onto his arm. Sung-ho and I share a brief glance, and he sucks in a deep breath. Stepping ahead, his hand wraps around the handle. It squeaks as it turns, and the door falls open. 

The internal walls are dirtied, bottoms of the wallpaper licked by flame. The stairs leading up are mostly intact, but covered in dust and ominous still. Sung-ho looks back at me, lip quivering. 

“Okay, I opened the door. You go in first.”

I clench my fists in my pockets, heart revving in my chest like one of our sports cars. My body’s weight all shifts to my feet, and moving them feels impossible. Eun-ji whimpers behind me, and my teeth chatter in my head. It takes all the energy I have to move forward, just one step, passing over the door frame. It feels stupid, pitiful, that I find myself struggling to cross something I cross every day leaving my own house. 

The floor creaks under my weight, having not supported anything in years. I hear someone following behind me, and I move in further to allow them access. Jeong shoves past Sung-ho, pulling his girl along with him.

“How about we stay in twos? It’ll be hard to fit in all the rooms together. I want to go check the hole first. You two can go after.” His voice is strained with nervous energy, but he plasters on a smile for his girlfriend. The two shuffle up the creaking stairs, moving slowly as the wood’s screaming echoes throughout the hall. 

Sung-ho walks down the extended hall, leaving me alone in the doorway. To my left, a charred black door remains closed. The knob is long gone, and I kneel down to peer through the hole left behind. 

A dusty, dirty futon lies in the cover, covered in what looks like rat droppings from where I am crouched down. Across from it, leaned up against the wall, is a rotting wood closet, the door no longer attached. The metal hinges sparkle in the rather muted room. 

I lean slightly too much on the door, and it pushes itself open, causing me to fall down onto the musty floor with a quiet ‘oof’. Pushing myself up, I brush off soot and mold from my jacket, disgusted by the remains left behind on my clothes. Above me, I can hear Jeong and Eun-ji’s heavy footsteps, and the sounds of the beams under their feet.

The room smells like a sewer, or at least what I assume one to be. The rot is overwhelming, and the trace of animals living here do not help either. A cluster of spider webs hangs in the space where the closet’s door used to be, in the centre a heavily pregnant spider rolling up a dead roach. 

Approaching the closet, sitting down on my knees, I notice a trap door centred in the concrete floor. I debate calling out to the others, but based on the sounds they were making, Jeong and Eun-ji were arguing about going into ‘The Hole’, and Sung-ho was clanging around in the kitchen still. 

Rolling up my jacket sleeves, I grab the handle of the door, grunting as I lift it up. Underneath, a very decayed and burnt set of stairs leading down into pitch black. Mildew wafts up from the gap, and I pinch my nose closed. Leaning forward, I attempt to get closer to the hole, trying to see anything down in what appears to be a basement. My eyes fight against the pure dark, only making out four steps ahead of me. I cannot tell how deep it is, or where it ends up.

Despite my curiosity, the stairs I can see do not seem stable enough to be descended down, and if they were the trip back up would be the nail in the coffin. I give it one more shot as I move my body downward, supporting my weight with my hands, head just barely sticking into the passageway.

A strong force hits me from behind. 

A scream falls from my lips as I feel myself slip, falling face forward into the dark abyss. My nose smashes into the second stair, crackling, and my body flips to slam into the next few. The trapdoor I had once opened slammed shut, shutting out the only light I had. My speed only picks up as I continue to roll, the brittle steps cracking underneath my weight. Splinters of broken wood pierce my jacket, getting themselves stuck in the skin of my arms. My back hits the concrete below hard, and all the air in my chest is thrown from my body. I can’t breathe, I can’t think, I can’t see.

I can’t scream.

Vaguely, from somewhere above me, I can hear a male voice cry out my name. Thundering booms akin to horses thuds above, footsteps maybe, get closer and closer until they suddenly stop.

“Aeji! Aeji where are you?!” Someone’s voice pierces my ears like a knife, only furthering their ringing. 

“I don’t know! I heard her scream from in here, but I don’t know where she is.”

“You didn’t stay with her? I thought we were going to stick together!”

“I was in the kitchen, I didn’t notice she hadn’t followed me.”

“She isn’t just gone, she has to still be here! Aeji! Say something!”

“Do we call her parents?? What if she’s hurt?”

“I don’t want to get in trouble! My dad would kill me! We just have to find her, okay?”

The voices above me trail off, getting further and further away. They call out my name, and I respond with a hoarse plea that barely leaves my throat. Something wet dribbles into my mouth, and I fight to spit it out. I attempt to roll onto my side, trying not to choke on my own saliva, but my body refuses to listen to me. 

Minutes pass. The house falls silent. My limbs fall numb and cold. The only thing that reminds me that I’m alive is the violent shivering racking my body. Air slowly fills my lungs again, and I manage to catch my breath. I try to reach for my phone in my pocket, needing any source of light, but when my tingling hand finds my coat both of my pockets turn up empty. My phone must have fallen out when I was tumbling, and dread fills my gut. 

“Guys! Eun-ji? Jeong? Sung-ho? I’m stuck! Where are you guys?” I call out, desperate for an answer. I run my hand along the floor, trying to find where my phone ended up. Tears well up in my eyes, pricking at the corners and stinging the back of my throat. Sharp splinters and rust dig into my hands, but I ignore them in my fervent search. 

“Eun-ji! Anyone! Please!” My voice wobbles, and I suck in a hiccup. “Eomma! Appa! I’m scared!” 

My hand bumps into the staircase, and my stomach does a flip. Much like a toddler, I start pulling myself up the stairs, worried that if I stood my foot would pierce through the wood. I try to balance out my weight evenly, flinching at every creak beneath me. Some of the steps are already broken, and I have to carefully lift myself over the gaps. 

A harsh light near blinds me, and I move my arm up to cover my face. I blink a few times to adjust, and pull my arm back. Jeong’s face greets me, worry plastered on his expression.

“Aeji what the fuck?! Why the hell are you in the crawl space?” I enjoy every moment of his chiding, and sniffle back the snot in my nose. I reach up towards the rim of the trap door, ready to pull myself up and out of the darkness.

A loud snap echoes in the basement, and my heart sinks into my gut. 

The stairs fall out from under me, and I let out another scream, eyes filled with terror. My entire body jolts, right arm near snapping. 

But I don’t fall.

Looking up, I see Jeong grabbing my outstretched arm, holding me narrowly from my death. Sung-ho rushes to his side, and they both hoist me up and out of the basement. Eun-ji immediately pulls me into her arms, crying heavily into my shoulder. Her mascara was dripping down her cheeks, and her breathing was wheezy. 

“I thought you were gone! We couldn’t find you a-anywhere! It was like you vanished!” She cries out, shuddering into my neck. I gently pat her back, still trying to regain my own composure.

“Let’s get fucking out of here, right now.” Jeong mutters, letting the trap door fall shut and getting to his feet. The two boys usher us out of the house, and Sung-ho closes the door behind us. The cold outside is welcoming, and the smell of the wet grass fills my lungs. 

“Holy shit, Aeji, your face is covered in blood. Did you break your nose?” Sung-ho asks, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“I don’t know. I don’t feel anything.” I reply, although it doesn’t ease his worry.

Jeong helps us all back over the fence, and we do not linger at all as we hurry down to the bus station. My phone is still not in my pocket, but I do not have the courage to attempt to get it back. God seems to grace us, as the bus peers around the corner just as we sit at the stop. 

As we ride in the dark, Jeong pulls out his phone to show us the pictures he took of the upstairs of the house. As we could have guessed, the space in which they found the dead woman was hollowed out, stained with human fluids and barely still together. I wanted to tell him he was a creep for snapping the shots, but my voice had decided that was enough for the night.

Eun-ji’s stop came up first, and she bid us a quick goodbye before running off the bus, and we watched her out the window book it down to her house. Mine was only a few more stops down, and I gave the two boys a quick hug before exiting the bus myself.

My walk to the house was slow, and I chewed my inner lip as I got closer. Without my phone, I couldn’t call my uncle Saeran to come and open the door for me. At the very least, he wouldn’t have ratted on me, and I could have washed my face off and pretended nothing had happened. 

But my nose was starting to really hurt, and the tears I had been holding back before were starting to come back. I had been pushed down those stairs, I knew I had. 

But no one had been in the room with me.

As I stepped up to the gate, all my self control broke loose, and I break down into shaking sobs. I rang the comms button over and over, crying incoherently into the speaker. None of the words coming out made sense, but I couldn’t focus myself more. I wrap my arms around myself, hugging my aching body tight.

The urgent footsteps of my parents start to approach, both sets, as the security gate swings open. My mom’s arms envelope me, pulling me tight to her chest. I cry into her silk shirt, gripping onto it tightly. My dad hugs me from the side, rubbing my back and mumbling into my hair. We stay there like that, despite the bitter cold, as I try to pull myself back together.

“Where have you been?!” My mother asks, pulling away just enough to press kisses to my forehead. I rub at my nose with my sleeve, wiping snot and blood from my upper lip. My dad tries to corral the two of us back towards the house, but my bruised up legs start to buckle underneath my weight.

My father catches me before I hit the ground, gently helping me back up to my feet and supporting most of my weight for me. My mother hurries up ahead of us, rushing back to our house and disappearing inside. My dad and I slowly walk back, exchanging no words between each other, but I can feel the anxiety radiating off of him in waves. Once inside, he sits me down on one of the couches, and my mother is quick to return with our medical kit and a damp cloth.

Apparently my upper lip is split, and my ankle is swollen, nose is broken on top of that. The alcohol wipe burns as my mom wipes my face with it, and I scrunch up my face in discomfort. Behind her, my dad paces back and forth across the room. They’re both still in their sleep wear, clearly not having noticed I had left before.

“What happened to you, Aegiya? Your clothing is all dirty. Where did you go?” Her anxiety is clear in her voice, and even clearer on her face. 

“My friends and I went out… I ended up falling and got hurt, I’m okay…” I do my best attempt at a lie, and while it eases my mother’s expression, it doesn’t seem to phase my father.

“How did you manage to fall that hard. Why didn’t you tell us before you left? You understand that it isn’t safe to be out this late at night at your age.” His tone is flat as he scolds me, something I don’t hear very often. I feel myself shrink down into the couch, shoulders creeping up in shame. 

Once my mom deems me clean enough, she packs up the messy medkit, zipping it up on the sides. Her disappointment may not be too heavy, but my dad’s is nipping at my mind. He sits himself down on our other couch, phone in his hand and expression hard to read. 

“Your phone isn’t with you? Where…” He grumbles to himself, likely looking at my phone’s GPS location. I fumble with my hands in my lap, keeping my gaze trained on my pants. My mom stays next to me, an arm wrapped around my shoulders and squeezing at my arm.

“Yeobo…” He calls out, and my mom leaves my side to join his. I don’t dare look up, not strong enough to experience my mother’s face when she gasps. 

“Aeji, what were you doing over there?! Did you break into that house? Are you kidding me? You could have been arrested!”

“We were looking for a ghost…” My defence feels weak, and I don’t expect my parents to take it. They definitely don’t. 

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?! You could have fallen through the floor! People could have been living in there, and could have been violent!” My mother continues to chide me, and I only sit and listen. My father stays silent, but I know how furious he is with me. 

He never dealt well with discipline, he tended to leave it to my mother who he trusted with it more. Only vaguely did I remember the few times he had lost his temper with me, but I did remember the terror it left my younger self with. I had forgiven him shortly after, my young attention span not caring to linger on it for long. However I don’t think he ever forgave himself for it, despite it not being anything worse than my mother would give me when I misbehaved anyway. 

Once my mother had lost her steam, she sends me up to my room to bed. In the morning, she tells me, we’ll go to the doctor to see if my nose was alright. I didn’t give her any fight, taking myself straight up into my room, climbing up to my bed and hiding myself under the covers. 

The room is dimly lit by the stars hanging over me and the lamp in the corner, filled with the familiar sense of comfort and security. I try my best to forget the day’s events, but something slithers around in my mind. I cannot tell where it is coming from, but it sounds as if it is behind my headboard.

It’s a faint sound, hard to hear over the static in my head. But when I focus just enough, I can make it out clear as day. 

**_Tap. Tap. Tap._ **

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Eyes Emoji
> 
> Damn what house is that, sounds pretty spooky. 
> 
> Thanks for reading my work, even though it isn't super fandom-y! Please leave me a comment, this is the first story I have a) finished and b) am actually proud of.


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